The Clairvoyant

Chapter Seven: Let's Go to an Old Lady's Home & Hope She Doesn't Kill Us

     Ten minutes later Thomas and Mary were walking out of the diner. Thomas had thoughtfully given Mary his coat, so she could... cover herself and feel more comfortable. Not to mention it was a cold night and scantily clothed women could easily get sick. Mary had walked to work so she could easily get into Thomas's Ford without worrying about her car. Her bug was at home.

    Mary shifted uncomfortably in her seat though, while Thomas rambled about his house being messy - that was where he invited her for dinner and a discussion about the upcoming trip they were taking. She was not uncomfortable about going to his house, nor was she uncomfortable about being in his presence. She felt quite at home with Thomas. What bothered her was his jacket. Yes it smelled like him, like mint and pine cones. But she kept getting strange sensations and little flashes she couldn't make out. They were blurred and black and white, holey. He was a man who was good about hiding his true feelings and who tucked things away in the past and left them there in the back of his head.

   This made him all the more dangerous because he was genuine and kind, and the kind people of the world had the worst and most skeletons in their closets.

    Mary considered handing him his jacket back but decided against it. It was warm and didn't smell like lavender scented moths or antique polish like her clothes did.

   He pulled up to an old house in a secluded section of the town. It was two stories with two chimneys and a tower. He grew the same rosebushes in his front yard as she did on her window sill: pink knock outs. She admired the architecture on his grand home, specifically the white ginger bread.

   "I like the crown molding," she said as he unlocked the door.

   Thomas dropped the key and looked at her. "What?" She had never been inside his house...

   She smirked and raised her eyebrows.

    "Oh, right. I forgot." He laughed at himself goodnaturedly. She saw things.

   Mary was taken aback. He had forgotten she was strange. How unusual for a normal person to forget such an abnormal thing. It had never happened to her before.

   Once inside, Mary smiled. "Oh Father Thomas, you have friendly spirits and positive energy in this house." She trailes a hand down a wooden wall. "They might be relatives, I think, because they have such a sense of  familiarity. They like you and leave you alone - except when they need to protect you." The warmth in the house was cozy and inviting. Mary seldom felt such welcoming presences. "May I?" She held out her hand palm open, seeking his.

   He hesitantly placed his hand in hers.

   She laughed as she searched for the good. "I believe you were having a reaction to a medication with an ingredient in it you were allergic to. You didn't know, but the phone you used to call 911 was not originally on your nightstand... as you never leave it there anyway... but it was in the living room. Guess who brought it to you?"

    Thomas withdrew his hand quickly. Her smile faltered. Had she overstepped, finally creeped him out? Mary slowly became herself again, the brief euphoria of the warmth fading. Everyone always become scared of her at some point. It was inevitable.

   But Thomas was just worried that  she would unearth something that would upset her... she still clearly did not know he knew her from ages ago. He didn't want to hurt her by letting her find out via her... gift. That very gift her mother committed her for.

   Seeing her uncertainty Thomas smiled. "Wel thank you!" He called out to no one in particular. "And thank you for telling me, Miss Ripley. I do appreciate it. And my family has lived in this house for a hundred years, so there are probably some ancestors. Like my great grandpa. He had an incredibly funny attitude and refused to eat his vegetables well into adult hood."

   Mary laughed at the story. So she had not scared the amicable priest yet. For some reason she found this nice.

   "But come, let us stop standing in the hall. I did promise you dinner."

    Mary followed him into the kitchen. She tripped on her heels on the way. "You can take those off if you want. I don't care very much about bare feet."

    Mary gratefully took him up on his offer. Her feet had blisters and ached from the stiletto t-straps.  "Thank you."

   "You're welcome. And I apologize for the mess." He gestured towards the papers and books on his dining table. "We'll have to eat in the living room."

   "It's okay," Mary said, not really paying attention. Something in the dining room was missing, but she couldn't figure out what. It had to do with a wall. Something needed....

   "Any requests? I have peanut butter sandwiches... cereal... fruit salad... and mac and cheese. I should have made a mental inventory before inviting you over, I'm sorry. Should I just call for take out?"

   "At nine thirty? No, I'll eat whatever," she said.

  "Okay... er... I'll just make a little of everything."

   Yes, let's just pretend we're children, not adults. Why don't you ever go to the grocery store? Mary choked on a laugh as his thought crossed her head. She wasn't a mind reader, but when someone felt a strong emotion, usually it reflected against her, and right now Father Thomas was embarrassed peanut butter sandwiches and Cheerios were the best he could offer.

     He put together a platter and lead her out to the living room. Before she sat down she drifted over to his book case and withdrew a volume. It contained a map of the U.S.

   "I didn't even know I had that," he said.

   "I did." She smiled sweetly.

    She spread it out and picked up a peanut butter sandwich, placing Cheerios inside.

    "It's actually really good. You know how some people put chips on their subs? It's like that."

   He tried it and they ate and planned.

    "So P.G. Anne is at least Ninety and she lives in Southtone Maryland, in a cottage in the woods. I think. I have her address... sort of. When would you like to leave? Should we drive quickly or go a few days at a time."

   "When is goos for you? I'm free anytime as long as I am back by Sunday."

   "Sunday is five days from now. I think we should go tomorrow. My work doesn't start up again until Saturday."

   "Okay. Can we take my car?"

  "Yes, my bug could never hold the suitcase you are going to pack - by the way, don't bring that encyclopedia you are thinking of bringing and leave one of the four bibles at home. What do you need four bibles for?"

   "I'll take your word for it."

   "Good. Now... what are your questions, something's going on in your head that has you so jumbled I can't tell anything. It's unnerving, not being able yo predict."

  "Yes, not being able to see my future must be so unnerving for you."

   "Getting snappy now, are we Father?"

    Thomas and Mary went back and forth for about an hour. Their bickering was light hearted and teasing. They had fun with each other. Thomas was fascinated by Mary's gifts which she used shamelessly to her benefit.

   They settled for leaving at one in the afternoon the next day. Mary did not want Thomas to pay travel expenses but he insisted, finally saying she could pay him back once the county pays her for getting rid of the Spectre. He was lying and she knew it but agreed anyway. She could just deposit into his bank account anyway.

   Being psychic helped had a few advantages. She ended their planning by saying, "Okay! Now let's show up at an old lady's house and hope she doesnt kill or hex us!"